Aerys the Great
by Ralph the Fanboy
Summary: A nerd for all things comic-books, medieval history, and fantasy novels suddenly dies and is reborn as a pivotal charcter of one of his most beloved fandoms. What will he do different from the Mad King? Does his knowlege relate to his new world? And how did he get there in the first place?
1. Rebirth

**Author's note: As the description implies it's going to get messy lore wise since you know... butterfly effect and all that entails, and a pesky SI wanting to make things better, annoying right?**

 **The polls are in, and the Old format wins!**

 **With that being said, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the** _ **A Song of Ice and Fire**_ **Series,** _ **Dunk and Egg**_ **Novellas and** _ **The World of Ice and Fire**_ **I own only the OC's.**

I never really stood out my whole life.

Mr. Boring

Never do anything guy.

The Wallflower… you get the idea.

So being caught in this situation was quite a shock.

I'm currently lying in an alleyway with gunshot wound in my bulbous gut while the girl of my dreams trying to stop the alarmingly rapid flow of blood pooling where I'm laid down.

"Stay with me, Ralph... Please!" wow she used my name!

Wow... head's getting really woozy.

I guess getting shot would do that to a person; this was not what I had in mind when I came to the rescue of a classmate of the female variety from getting mugged and/or worse. And maybe getting some goodwill and one thing leading to another… Anyway…Her name is Cynthia, a lovely name now that I think about it.

So I subconsciously (and stupidly) rushed to her aid all knight in shining armor like, and the Idiot I was; thought I could tackle the mugger being a big guy and all, but that only made him react to my battle cry (In hindsight that was dumb, really DUMB) by aiming a gun that I thought he didn't have and pulling the damn trigger in the direction where he thought he heard the screaming a dying animal.

And I got hit right in the gut.

The momentum made me fall flat on my face in the most unheroic _thud_ I have ever heard.

I'm hearing the mugger say some profanities about my mother and other inaudible swearing all the while backing away, probably his first mugging. Aren't I lucky bastard?

Cynthia, the girl of my dreams; oblivious to the potty mouthed criminal who fired shot, turned me over and put pressure on the bullet wound which was now gushing like a geyser. Her eyes have a lovely shade of brown turning red and blood-shot as they welled with tears.

She kept saying "It's gonna be okay" "You're alright" "I called an ambulance" (even though she clearly didn't being busy trying to apply first aid to a classmate she barely knew) and other things you say to a person you don't want to die.

Breathing was hard and painful, not breathing was worse so I'm caught in the proverbial rock and the hard place.

This is it I'm going to die; I readied myself (as much as having bullet hole in your stomach, and every breath you take feels like the inside of your ribcage is lined with tiny needles) for the afterlife, eternal nothingness, eternal paradise or eternal damnation (please not the last one). But someone somewhere had other plans.

"Do you want to live?" a voice asks

Everything stopped, _**literally**_ stopped, Cynthia was stopped mid-another reassuring sentence, the would-be mugger looked readying to make a run for it, was frozen in place, even a passing rat froze while scurrying (Gross).

I could feel a presence at my back, which is weird because I'm lying _on_ my back.

The "time stop" thing is somehow keeping me alive and not affecting me. But the pain was still there and probably the bullet hole too. Though not moving is still a must mystical for not experiencing excruciating pain. Anomalies be dammed.

"Wha…" was the only thing I could say

"DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?" it asks again

I nod, thinking the gesture was futile. All the while the pool of my own blood worryingly spread.

Then everything went dark in that instant.

I wake up and the first thing I see is total darkness. Nothing around me, heck I don't think I'm standing on anything. Come to think of it I can't _feel_ anything.

So naturally I start to freak out.

I scream and yell for help, but it seems all around me is as empty as it looked, that and I think I have no way of making a sound.

Time seems non-existent here.

* * *

After counting up to 1,423 losing count that, I have deduced that time does pass here (Or what I perceive as time at least) I just don't have any idea how to know the exact time, you know the month, date, year, is it morning, noon or night? For what seems like an eternity I was stuck in that place, my eyesight is gradually coming back which didn't help one bit since it was pitch black.

Well the voice kept his (or her with a very deep voice) promise, I AM alive, trapped floating in this limbo state, but alive. I should have been more specific with my wish, yes I what I did at my dying breath was a wish; I can't find a better word to use.

But asking for an alternative like; healing me completely, going back in time to stop me from taking that short cut and saving a girl that hardly knew I existed, but noooooo, I had to make the most ambiguous wish: I want to live. Well that turned out well didn't it? Now I'm stuck in Limbo or whatever this place is and now way of even finding out where the fuck I was. And to top it all off I'm talking to nobody just to not go insane!

A few (um… days?) pass, I finally have my sense of touch back! Whooo! The sensation of being in water was the first (and only) I felt. Weird isn't it? Person I talk to get a hold of my sanity?

After what seems like weeks, I notice something, either my surroundings are shrinking or I was getting bigger. But the bright side is that I'm snug as a bug in rug, for now. And good news… well any news is good when I'm in here I guess

* * *

I am being pushed out by the wall themselves like their way of saying 'get out you bum!', the liquid was is gone, and the walls is pushing me out, I'm starting to get an idea what happened to me, but it's so ridiculous that I'll take note of it for later. A bright light appeared out of nowhere. And it kept getting brighter and brighter, until everything I saw was light. And the thing that followed… well let's just say it caught me completely by surprise.

Being blinded by the brightness of aforementioned light, there was something pushing all around me and now that I focused more on my surroundings I started to hear muffled screams of a woman. Her shrieks were accompanied by more indescribable sounds, which I assumed other peoples voices I was caught something that is most likely a giant pair of hands.

* * *

Yep, I was right, as farfetched as it was.

My mind was "transplanted" in to a child still growing in the womb, or Reincarnated, or Reborn.

I had first hand witnessed the miracle of life, and it was… gross, absolutely disgusting. Being squeezed out from another human being, that's B-rated horror gold.

I am now being held by my 'mother' who I might add is gorgeous, pale skin, slivery white hair, and … wait. No, it can't be, can it?

"What should be his name Princess?" a voice from behind me said

The person holding me is Royalty? Does that mean I'm a prince now?

Last time I checked I wasn't a prince. Then again I wasn't an infant.

"I would wait until my Royal Husband arrives" she smiled at me with a face that could melt the toughest men's hearts.

I try to speak but all it got me was babbling nonsense.

So I still my knowledge of language and presumably motor skills but this new body can't keep up? Great! Really Fucking Great!

My age in the moment of my untimely demise was Twenty, I went through growing up once and I had the luxury of forgetting the first few years of it, the awkward childhood, the more awkward adolescence with puberty, I was hoping that my early adulthood would be different but looking the pattern it wasn't looking good.

Some people would like to start over from a clean slate, and there were some points in my life that it sounds like a good idea, and thinking back that was stupid of me to even think that. Now I'm here back to square one (literally).

"He's quiet for a babe, isn't he princess?" another voice said

I turned my head as much as I could to see a bunch of women wearing era appropriate clothing, probably midwifes and or female courtiers.

The princess looked at me lovingly as only a mother can, which made me squirm like the baby I currently am.

She dangled tiredly her finger above my head muttering sweetly "Hello little one" and other cliché sweet nothings.

Sweaty and tired was what I can say when looking at her face closely; I'm not surprised having to push another person out of you (childbirth seriously freaks me out, after watching that clips from the internet that one time).

Well reminding myself of something I can never have again jarred the dazed and confusion out of from the initial arrival (ewww) I realized my whole life was gone.

Twenty years.

I was sad, angry, and whole plethora of emotions. Maybe it was the sheer weight of not being in my own reality anymore, my whole other life being left in that reality family, what little friends I had, or just being in the body of new born. I cried.

Crying felt good, it didn't do much good logically but fuck it; I'm in Planetos! And I have no idea how; logic does not apply in any of this. Wailing seems to work better though. So I wailed.

"Shall I get the wet nurse then Your Grace, he seems to be hungry" the first woman said, possibly another courtier.

No I am not! You… you… Bitch… well if the grumbling in my stomach is any indication of lack of sustenance… I guess I was pretty hungry.

Still my wailing continued.

"No, I shall feed him"

"Of course Princess Shaera"

Well at least I know her name now, wait she said she was going to feed me does that mean what I think it means? The naming scheme sounds too familiar (the ae thing), and considering what happened to me it isn't that far off. But I could be wrong.

Sure enough she undid her already loose dress (was it called a birthing dress?) and exposed her magnificent bosom. Then shoving said bosom in my infantile mouth which sucked it instinctively (damn you instincts!).

Now still in shock at all of the things that happened to me, but who am I to deny this? I know I sound like a pervert and some people might classify me as one (very few people mind you) but I just need to relax, the entire ordeal wasn't easier on me I had to… forget it.

Lulled to semi consciousness with Shaera humming and occasionally saying "My little baby boy…" was great after what I would guess months in vitro, I was for the moment, content.

Apparently my contentment made her so happy that she cried, these were tears of happiness, I never seen any in my old world. Is it bad to feel a little annoyed?

* * *

The people who just wanted to see a princess give birth exited the room as another man who had the same features as my not mom clad in black and red three headed dragon emblazoned in the front rushed in (that looks familiar)

"Shaera!" he panted "Are you well my love? How is the babe?" does everyone here talk like bad Shakespeare?

She chuckled, careful not to move around too much.

"I'm well heart of my heart, so is our sweet boy"

My father sighed looking relieved.

Stepping out of the door he called out to a man outside by what little I could hear, that person was a guard.

"…this room ser… life… protect"

"… Kingsguard, your Grace" again that sounds familiar.

"…apologies ser…"

"…will Prince Jaehaerys"

What? Kingsguard? Jaehaerys? Targaryen? Did I hear that right? That's this guy's name?! That means I'm in…in A Song of Ice and Fire! (Or the prequel so to speak, if that can be even applied to this whole situation, which logically it most certainly can't, but logically can't be proven otherwise, which just plain sucks) It also means I'll be named Aerys! The one who's responsible for the entire plot of George R.R. Martins Novels! What did I just have gotten myself into?

The man that I now know as Prince Jaehaerys of House Targaryen closed the door behind him and walked back to Shaera and me. "By the gods! Look at that face!" He looked at me in wonder "Hello there, I'm your father"

Taking me ever so carefully from the princesses' chest, tears welling from his eyes as he gently rocked my now newly born body.

Making the silliest face he can (which was by the way only mildly irritating) he said "Kochie Kochie Kochie koo!" "Bwabwabwa" "Peek-a… boo!" Being baby talked was demeaning, even if I have the body of newborn, I still have what's left of my pride and it's taking a beating! What made it worse was being covered with just a thin blanket exposing my baby… thing to the air, the very, very cold Westerosi air.

And again with the finger, if I still had my motor skills I'd give _you_ the middle finger!

My rage somewhat resonated with this new body, because I grabbed my not dad's forefinger and tried to bite it with my toothless mouth.

"What shall we name him, Shae"

That nickname name is so referential that I giggled while I gave "Mr. Gab a finger near my face" the gum chewing of a lifetime.

"I was thinking naming him after father"

He shook his head "After five Aegons on the throne and most of them not looked kindly upon by history, why would we burden him with such a name if he is to rule?"

Now this conversation got my attention from the biting thing. They were naming me! And I want to stick as close to cannon as I can, I haven't got anything else better to do else better to do. Go Aerys!

My not mom pouted "Lets name him after you then"

"And be known as Jaehaerys the younger? Forever being in my shadow, I can't do that to our child my love"

Shaera let out a hearty sigh "Be serious Jae"

"I am! Surpassing my namesake, the histories would name me 'Jaehaerys the Magnificent' showing the Seven Kingdoms prosperity never before…"

She erupted in a fit of laughter.

"I truly am serious sister"

"You will be called 'The Magnificent'? You?"

"Yes what of it?" he looking flustered now.

"As a child you had poor ser Willem check under your bed for monsters"

"The good ser is a sworn member of the Kingsguard charged in protecting me from all threats to my person, even from my own mind! And I was but a child then, scared easily by Dunks' stories"

"You were three-and-ten when you stopped and even then you slept with candles! A ready supply of them is in your chambers to this day!"

"Come now sister dear this is not about me…"

She cut him off "There was that one time with that serving girl, what is her name again? Lya… Mya…" She was snapping her fingers in an effort to remember the name "Lyla! Yes Lyla! Remember? So impatient at bedding her that you released your seed whilst fully clothed!"

"It was her fault! She kept… Shaera stop it this instant"

The look on her face showed a woman trying and failing to hold down her laughter.

Now they were just messing around, just name me Aerys for cannons' sake! But all the embarrassing things she was saying were gold! That last part cracked men up.

"Even the little one finds it humorous!"

Jaehaerys Targaryen, the future king of an entire continent looked positively red with embarrassment as he gave me back to my not mom. "Very well Shae! I am a weakling and… and an idiot not worthy of you… T'was a grave mistake pronouncing my love in the Godswood, Luthor Tyrell was a more appropriate suitor for your hand not the frail man here beside you" he said with cringe worthy melodrama.

She placed her teat back to my mouth and to my shame sucked greedily "Oh stop your mummering Jae! Everyone has their flaws, it just so happens that I know the most shameful of yours"

Not dad still played exaggerated performance "And yours would be your constant reminder of the flaws of others"

"I consider it a skill to give a good thrashing to ones self-esteem every so often; the gods have mercy when you start to think drinking wildfire is a fine way to become a dragon".

Jae pondered her words like a great philosophical question "Wildfire? Wildfire, wild…fire, Hmmm…"

Shae in turn looked troubled "I don't like the look on your face"

"Of course!" my not dad exclaimed "That is his name! Aerion!"

"We are not naming him after our uncle, if the tales about him and fathers stories are any warning; he was a madman who as I said _drank wildfire thinking on becoming a dragon_ " I yelled ' _nahhhh!'_ in agreement "See even he despises it"

Undeterred he continued.

"Baelor then? Tis a…"

 _Nahhhh!_

"Laenor, a good…"

 _Nahhhh!_

"Mayhaps Matarys is more…"

 _Nahhhh!_

"Qoherys, name of…"

 _NAHHHH!_

Shae suppressed a laugh "It seems our son refuses to be named" she proceeded to rock me slowly "My, my, you are willful babe aren't you?"

"Mayhaps Aerys is suited for him" my not dad said dismissively "He was a willful king"

She looked at him confused "I can discern King Aerys was too smart for his own good , but how was he in any way willful?"

"I asked the same question to Grand Maester Kaeth when he answered which Targaryen King he most admired"

The statement made not mom confused "Of all the kings to reign over the Seven Kingdoms, why did he choose him?"

Still looking at me with affection he fixed his wife's hair.

"Aerys, like Daenys the Dreamer he… in the Grand Maesters own words, suffered dreams of the future. It started when he was but a child as vivid dreams, but over the years grew in intensity and frequency."

"What does this have to do with naming our babe?"

"Hush Shaera, I am getting to that"

"Go on then, oh great historian" she scoffed

"Very well, where was I…?"

"I believe it was Aerys and his dreams dear husband" she said in an exaggerated renaissance fair like voice.

Looking mildly amused Jaehaerys went on "But no matter how vivid the dreams became, t'was only fragments of a greater prophesy. Although fragmented it was evident to him a great calamity was to befall our house and he worked tirelessly to find out what it was, through all the lords cries he must do his duty to the realm, he continued the search for the answer"

"… and during this mad search, he gave his Bryden 'Bloodraven' free reigns on the crown"

My not dad looked impressed "So you were truly listening to fathers 'lessons' all those years ago?"

She smiled "Obviously Jae, I wasn't our fathers favorite for nothing"

Jaehaerys just shook his head.

Shae looked skeptical "So the reason father became king was because a man who dreamt of bad things and hadn't had the time to bed his wife? Certainly he would have time for that."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss his claims my love, many said the same for Daenys"

"T'was a feeble argument of his intelligence let alone for his willfulness Jae"

"Tis the truth though"

"And how in the Sevens name did Grand Maester Keath come possess such information?"

"There were several journals belonging King Aerys just lying around in the library, one only need to look"

As their somewhat argument continued, I'm still breastfeeding the heck out of her… that sounded better in my head.

But as the first real food I had since getting shot, even though it's Breast milk it tasted divine.

Once I had my fill, I just nuzzled into my not mom's breast and drifted to sleep, letting all my worries be on the background even for a little while.


	2. The Princely Life

**251 AC**

 **Fifth day of the third Moon**

 **Maegors Holdfast, The Prince's Room**

 **The Red Keep, Kings Landing**

"Maester Martyns work, no matter how inconsequential at his time, is now known today as an important study of the fundamental forces that governs this world!

Imagine your Grace, hearing claims of a round world and an invisible force that prevents us from falling off it!"

Never in a million years did I think 'Man! I miss elementary school!' But after spending a hour of _special lessons_ with Pycelle, a million years came early.

Three years of tertiary education from a top notch community college and listening to an arrogant Grand Maester talk about _how gravity works_ and _the world is actually round_ in a medival style curriculum _,_ is infinitely more boring than being stuck in a crib all day.

Pycelle wasn't nearly crippled by old age, though he was geriatric. And isn't the traitorous son of a bitch the books set him out to be; boring, head up in his own ass, patronizing, and has a serious case of halitosis (from fish oil) but not the Pycelle in the 280's. I wonder what changed?

His maesters chain clanked annoyingly as he got up to find another book. Looking out the window I saw that sun was almost a quarter out from The Tower of the Hand and that means this ordeal is over.

"Fascinating!" saying it with fake enthusiasm.

To my horror he turned and smiled "I knew you'd find it so your Grace! So I took the liberty of excusing you from your other lessons..."

"Wha..."

He held a huge ass tome and showed me the title; Trees of Westeros: A begginers guide by Maester Mychel. The damn thing's thicker than the Seven Pointed Star! (Damn you to the Seven Hell's for making me read the entire book of the Father, Septon Marq!)

"...so our discussion of the natural world would continue until supper."

Great.

 **Three Hours Later**

Pycelle finally left and surprisingly I hadn't died of boredom due to the fact that the last hour and a half the lesson drifted off to the Seven Kingdoms and it's geography and history, topics that I already have a pretty decent understanding of if I do say so myself.

"For one so young, to be able to memorize _most_ of the names Noble Houses is..." he looked at me with curiosity "simply outstanding! You could be an excellent maester like your great-uncle..."

He just droned on from there right before leaving with a visible skip in his step.

Now I was all alone in my large princely room that is way bigger than what a seven-year old could possibly need. The nursery got a bit crowded since Rhaella was born a year after me (just like in the cannon!)

Being an only child in my past life I always wanted brothers and sisters and don't get me wrong; I love my little sister to death (just not like in the cannon hopefully) but go back a few years and I am thinking of doing some things to make me an only child, having a small wailing baby then a really loud toddler so close to me every day got on my nerves, can you blame me?

I finally got my own room two years ago, at five years old is when children are taken out of the nursery for older childhood, it's an Andal tradition apparently (mostly for the heirs of Kingdoms and Lordships, the rules are kinda murky for the other royal and lordly kids) I jumped for joy and almost falling flat on my face.

The room itself is pretty nice, really princely. Four identical, intricately sculpted pillars holding up a celling painted to look like the sky, all Renaissance muraluesqe, all that's missing is naked angel babies. While the pillars themselves had bas reliefs of three headed dragons on the top and bottom. I also has a view of the throne room outside, and I have a freaking deck. The bed itself is a work of art, making King Louis XIV's a run for its money. Again the dragon motif also extended to it; the bed frame carved with coiled dragons, bed posts are dragons, my sheets have dragons, dragons, dragons, dragons (I thought I would never get sick of the things, but I eventually did)

This was my dad's (Jaehaerys) childhood bedroom before his current quarters; a bare bedchamber (bare in the sense of not that luxurious) near the Royal Apartments, again this was tradition for the adult heir to the Iron Throne and Lord of Dragonstone.

And as the

It was originally meant for King Aenys' son Aegon but he never used it (being banished and killed by Maegor the Cruel and all). Through the years, several Targaryen princes called this room theirs, and adding things to it; Aegon III had the play area made in the center, Daeron the Young Dragon got a somewhat crude mosiac map of the Six Kingdoms added (no one botherd adding Dorne after) complete with tin soldiers that are in the toy chest, Baelor the Blessed had a shrine of the Seven made for him (when a whole Sept wouldn't fit), Daeron the Seconds small but comprehensive library on the corner is where I sufferd through Pycelle's medival physics lesson.

Looking at everything that I have now, I can't help feeling amazed and lucky.

Seven years passed since I became Prince Aerys Targaryen and I gotta say; it's been pretty great. Though being depressed about a year and a half was not fun (some of the servants still give me weird looks from my lashing out as a baby), I eventually got over it. And by get over; I mean not feeling an overwhelming sadness every day with a homesickness that can only be discribed as chronic. But after that, everything was awesome!

I am a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Me; who used to be a twenty something lout, destined to be in middle management in some company branch somewhere, with my facination of history and fantasy, writing fanfiction, even finishing that time travel novel I started a couple of years back.

For all intents and purposes; a nobody who died miserably for a girl he likes and I somehow ended up in a body of a future Targaryen king. That stroke of fortune took a while to set in, five whole years.

In those five years I learned a few things: First of all; I still have all my memories, skills, experience and knowledge from Earth, which came in handy in some situations. That also meant I don't have to start from scratch with my motor skills.

Secondly; Even with my Earth knowledge intact, I'm still in a body of a child. So my _learning_ is just my new toddler body keeping up with my twenty-year-old mind (or is it twenty-five now?)

And lastly; people tend to get creeped out when a little boy, even if it was their prince, has a philosophical argument with a respected septon on the virtuous non believers to the Seven (a long and boring story, my knowledge on the topic just came from reading the spark notes on the Divine Comedy).

That earned me a few nervous wispers and cautious stares (mostly from the overly pious in courtiers and the occasional stick-up-the-ass septons and shrill never-been-touched-by-man Septas) but it was generally drowned out by praise of my _genius._

My reminiscing of how I made a middle aged priest red faced was broken with the sound of a sword being drawn and a yelp.

"Your Grace! It's me!"

That plea can only come from one person.

Before something else happens I darted to the door.

"Leave him be Ser Erryk!"

I hear the sword being sheathed and the door creaking open, a gangly boy covered with soot came in, carrying a bucket of coals. He bent down to one knee like he did so many times before (I am still not not used to people doing that).

It started to get awkward when he kept kneeling, then I realized he has to until told otherwise.

"Uhhh... Rise Garin"

He got up and grabbed his coal bucket. "Mmm... My tha... tha... thanks... Prin... Prince Aerys"

He stuttered as much as any kid would if they had a sharp sword pointed at their face.

"What did you do this time Garin?" I looked at him questioningly

Like always at this time of the day, he rifills the braizers in my room keeping me toasty warm during the surprisingly cold nights in the Red Keep.

He fills one and proceeds to light it with a lamp he brought and a greasy rag on a stick "I be givin' the good ser no reason yer Grace!

I be just minding me duties to keepin' yer Graces warm one minnit, then havin' a sword poiten' at me face the next"

His accent made me want to laugh, even though I eventually developed an accent on my own; Garins consistently reminds me of people drinking beer in a London pub or a bunch of zealous English Soccer (or Football) fans when Manchester... Something, lost a game.

"Maybe you hid in the shadows again"

He stayed silent but kept working on the last braziers.

"Garin, as your prince, I command you..."

"Ser Erryk, jus' made me feel not proper your Grace, him bein' in White Kingsguard armour. And he asked questions too fast, me bein' the way I am and all..."

Ah, my designated Kingsguard. Ser Erryk, a knight from House Wendwater. Coming from a minor branch, he had to claw himself up from just being some knight in service for his family or some lord, to a member of the Kingsguard, by making a name for himself in a tourney held at Kingslanding for my _dad's_ namedayby his father King Aegon V.

Nearly knocking Ser Gerold the White Bull from his horse in the third lance and being unseated himself in the fifth, that was my first time seeing a real Westerosi tourney (Gods that was epic and don't get me started on the melee).

I'll never forget that day, mainly because of Ser Erryk. After asking to be in the Kingsguard in public, the duel with Lord Commander Duncan to prove his worthiness, and being hailed to the order by King Aegon himself, it looked like it was from a movie (it's weird thinking about movies now)

This made him really dedicated, and when I say that; I mean borderline obsessive. There's always something to prove to someone, which probably goes back to his insecurities or he's just really loyal.

We chatted while he filled the rest of the braziers, I'd ask him a few questions and he'd nervously answer.

"If that would be all your Grace, I'd be best to on me way" Garin bowed.

"Just one more question"

"Ask away then yer Grace"

I got used to the _'your Grace'_ thingafter failing to get the servants calling me in the first name basis. The way I was raised in earth made me a bit uncomfortable being called by honorifics and I still cringe a bit on the inside when getting called _your Grace, his magesty, my prince..._

"We're friends, are we not Garin?" I asked

The question caught him by surprise and he looked like he was thinking of a good reply.

"If yed av'e me as one, yer Grace"

"Good" I smiled at him.

"Would that be all yer Grace?"

"Yes Garin, thank you"

Again he looked like a deer in headlights.

"N... N... No problem a... A... ... At all your Grace, I'd best be leavin'..."

With a the fastest walk I've ever seen, he got out of my room like it was on fire, which fortunately it wasn't.

That wasn't just some random question, I actually wanted to get to know him better.

Garin of Kingslanding, son of a middling coal trader who in a stroke of luck; had the stable master owe him one and got his kid a job as the head coal boy.

That was just from a few conversations I had with Garin when he started opening up a moon ago.

He and a couple other boys his age work to keep braziers and furnaces in working order, this makes them excellent for spying for one reason; nobles treat servants like they're invisible; Back on earth, you call a servant specifically by name to get them to do something. Here on Planetos there's hardly ever any eye contact between lords and servants, just an off hand command like _"My stable boy would care for your horse"_ even though the stable boy was standing next to them. Making them excellent spies, or at least decent informants. One can never be too young to start your own spy network.

Then a metallic knock came from outside my door.

I heard the booming voice of Ser Erryk "Prince Aerys, twould be best if we should leave for dining hall now"

A short walk from my room was the royal dining hall, it was about the size of a great Hall of a well to do landed knight and unlike everything here, it wasn't meticulously decorated with Dragons, quite the opposite; drab stone walls, the hearth is a plain ridge on the floor, and there's smell of tallow in the air (from the cow fat candles)

When I first ate here I was confused and I asked my dad why a ruler of an entire continent would eat in a place like this.

At first daddy Jaehaerys looked at me funny, since I was three at the time he didn't even expect me to pronounce the word _continent._ Eventually he answered my question; Grandy Egg (I called him that once and it stuck) wanted to feel that old rustic way of life when he squired for ser Dunk the Tall, but due to being king and all, hasn't had the time to rough it like the old days, so he settled on this informal dinners now and then.

Now my side family doesn't have to eat here, there's a much bigger banquet hall that lots of Targaryen Kings used and lots of other places to eat more regally, but one of the other things my royal grandfather liked in his travelling was; a close family, considering the one he grew up with was either cold and distant, didn't give a shit about him, or just wanted to cut his ptebubecent... You know.

Four of the Kingsguard stood guard at the corners of the room watching for any potential threats like a hawk (I'm somewhat put off that they look at me while I'm eating (I know their _guarding the king_ , it's still creepy to me) and three royal tasters stood at the ready. I heard there Grandy Egg was against of other people tasting his food before him (I'd be against it too) but the small council insisted.

The entire Royal family sat on the modest (for royalty) table spread with the usual dinner for me.

King Aegon sat in the head chair with my Mom, Dad and Rhaella in his right while Queen Betha was his left, and three royal tasters stood at the ready.

Ham, some chicken, bread, broth, watered down wine, small beers and other food that're familiar but tastes really different.

Nothing was out of the ordinary; I sat next to dad, Rhaella sat next to mom still not wanting to eat her vegetables and lashing out on the poor soul trying to make her mom and a very drenched serving maid included, the tension between my dad and grandad with the whole breaking bethrodals, me occasionally glancing at the eagle eyed Kingsguard.

I assumed it was an average Wednesday night dinner, until Grandy Egg made his usual mid meal announcement about me.

"Aerys dear boy, I have been hearing talk amongst the servants"

Oh no, he's making his 'don't call me Grandy Egg' face.

"What do they say about me grandfather? Nothing bad I hope?" I said trying to brush it aside.

That got the attention of whole table, Rhaella having heard Grandfather's serious tone, made a face of her own; the infinitely annoying 'you in big twoble' face, mom and dad looked at me like I gutted a pregnant cat, the servants just not so casually looked away. What the hell did I do?

My royal grandfather sipped from his cup and coughed "Yes there's talk about you fraternizing with the children around the keep"

My two Second parents and I breathed a sigh of relief, discreetly.

He continued "I was also a boy your age and I can see a need for companionship of peers that is not family"

I turned my head towards Rhaella, who just stuck her tounge out promptting me to do the same making King Aegon smile at us endearingly.

"But the weight of our titles is not something to be simply dismissed, our bannermen and lords who swore their fealty to us would take offense if word spread that a prince of the realm forming friendships with smallfolk. I know of this very well, so trust me in this"

Well I guess that means I can't make a spy network rivaling Varys's just yet. A shame really, the boys were starting to talk more openly.

My head just drooped "I understand grandfather, no more consorting with lowborn children"

"That's not what I meant Aerys, in fact I encourage, you seem so dour for a child" he laughed

"I've made many friends in my youth, a great number of them from humble origins" he gestured to Ser Duncan who nodded in turn "And in my experience, they can be as true a friend as any lords son, I am merely saying some of those lords are quick to anger and swift in judgement and swifter still in offence..."

I have no idea what's happening, but at least I'm not in trouble... Yet.

Before my Grandfather can finish his sermon on who should I be seen with, Granny Betha spoke.

"My love, you are the king." She said touching her husband's shoulder "Ask any lord to have their sons to be Aerys's playmate they couldn't give them to us fast enough. Though I must admit our word can be taken quite lightly as of late"

Both my parents looked uncomfortable for some reason. But I just brushed it off as some inside joke between them, because I just had an idea to create some waves in the timeline.

"The West! I want to go to the Westerlands!" I blurted out as I stood from my seat instantly gaining the rooms attention.

252 After Conquest, Genna Lannister is betrothed to a Frey (I forgot what's his faces name), that is, not if I can help it. Let's tempt the butterfly effect shall we?

 **That was long overdue rewriten chapter two. As I said on my other fic; laptop broke, all drafts gone, and continuing this in my phone.**

 **So this going to be the start of the first major arc of** _ **Aerys the Great**_ **where he tries to stop a child marriage, interacts with one of his favourite noble houses (it's not the one you're thinking or maybe it is I'm not a mind-reader) and giving a metaphorical middle finger to the butterfly effect with some interesting results.**

 **I'm sorry if this chapter is pretty boring, I had to do a lot of explanations.**

 **And I want to thank all the people who followed, liked, and reviewed. The next chapters are going to come faster, I promise.**

 **In the meantime check out my other fic:** _ **A tale of conquest.**_


	3. Word of Insurrection

For my tiny outburst, I was sent to my room immediately and wasn't given any lemon cakes. I fell asleep without the usual after meal buzz.

Next thing I know, I'm in Summerhall on my fifth name day. It's lavish... Halls gleamed with polished marble, the pillars (also made of the same stuff) looked something out of an ancient Greek palace, and the lands around it gave an air of pretentiousness that automatically ticked me off.

Yep this was Summehall alright.

And did I mention I'm currently watching a five year old me pretending to enjoy being patronized by the entire royal court, while actually enjoying the presents and guests feasting.

Two of the small council's here, if I remember correctly. Ser Mychel Dayne is one of them, a Sword of the Morning not mentioned in the cannon. He's talking in a shade of a tree to young Knights, Squires and Pages about Knightly stuff. Wearing a traditional purple Rhoynish robe with silver inlays, Dawn strapped to his back and the heir of his House squiring for him standing proudly by his side.

The shoulder length silver-gold hair only loosing luster with strands of pure white made him look more Targaryen than any Dornishmen I ever saw (only three, including him).

A cousin to my Grandy Egg and the only one he trusts to be Master of Laws and control of the City Watch.

In the far side of the courtyard sat Lord Horas Tyrell with a busty serving girl. She sat on his lap all while he whispered to her ear and touching the girl in some inappropriate places.

The Lord of Highgarden serves as Master of Coin and is one of the two-thirds that makes up Grandfathers small council as a 'sorry our children can't get married, here's a juicy position instead' kind of appointments.

Looking younger than his one-and-forty years, from what I saw and heard he likes to seduce women particularly red heads and while he fucks them, he screams the name of his dead wife (or so I heard).

There were other guests but the haze here makes everyone look blended together.

This is clearly a dream, very vivid, but still a dream. Everyone moving as though there's invisible putty everywhere, was a dead giveaway.

Past me sat on the palace throne overlooking the interior gardens with Dad and Grandpa flanking me, with Uncle Daeron hosting, being the Prince of Summehall and all.

Clean shaven and his long silver hair worn like those hipsters back on Earth, Uncle Daeron whipped up the crowd to cheering before turning to face me (eight year old me) and bleeding from his eyes, nose and mouth.

Horrified, I made a 180 to make a run for it but my bleeding uncle somehow teleported in front of me and grabbed my arm.

Looking as pale as a corpse he leaned closer.

"What?" I say confused

When I thought things couldn't get any scarier, Uncle Daeron opened his mouth and somehow animals squirmed violently out of it, tearing open my uncle's head.

I closed my eyes as guttural noise from the animals assulted my dream ears.

Conviently, before things turn full on Thing, Ser Erryk shook me awake, but not before waking the entire Red Keep with my screams.

Next Day

The Princes Apartments, Maegors Holdfast

The Red Keep

Pycelle looked at me like a frog he's about to dissect (do maesters dissect things?) "How often does the nightmares occur your Grace?"

"Last night was the first" I answered fighting drowsiness.

And I'm not lying, that was the first time the dream turned into horror movie, but not the first one like it.

It started about a year ago as regular dreams; falling down, floating on air, or a sensation of walking. But eventually turned more and more detailed, to the point of copying a memory with weird things happening.

After a brief questioning, we continued with his boredom inducing lessons, made more boring by my lack of sleep. But to my relief, there was a loud knock in my door and Ser Erryk slowly opened the heavy Ironwood door to my room.

He gave a slight bow to me. "Apologies for interrupting the lesson in such a way your grace" then he turned to Pycelle "but a man sent by the Royal Steward has sent for you Grand Maester."

"This is most irregular Ser Erryk!" Pycelle said looking upset. "I am teaching our future king of the world-"

It was about the Crownlander noble families and the relations they have with the crown. No biggie.

"Again, my apologies. But he said twas urgent; his grace is calling the Small Council immediately"

Pycelle stood up pressing creases in his robe "We already met this morning! What could demand such urgency that another meeting would be needed, did the messenger say why Ser?"

"Only that haste is needed Grand Maester" Ser Erryk replied.

Pycelle sighed and picked up his book looking sullen. "Twould be an urgent matter if the council is called in such short notice and no word of why. I am truly sorry our lesson is cut short your grace, but as much as I enjoy our lessons my duty is to the realm first"

I nod solemnly while trying to fight a smile.

He shuffled to the door and bowed respectfully before leaving.

When I was sure Pycelle was out of earshot I called back in Ser Erryk.

"Um...Ser Erryk?" I said

"Yes your grace."

I yawn and stretch my arms over my head. "I'm feeling tired, I'll be taking a nap and I don't want to woken up"

He nods and closes the door with a dull thud.

I wait to make sure no one comes barging in, before taking out my notes and written down plans that's hidden in select books in the mini library.

Looking at the rough timeline I made, nothing really stood out; Genna Lannister getting married to that Frey (who's name I still can't remember) doesn't happen until next year and the next major thing after that is the Tragedy of Summehall and there's seven years to figure out how to fix it. Though there's a nagging feeling at the back of my head telling me I missed something.

But Grandy Egg calling the small council all of a sudden seems awfully suspicious. Usually, they meet about mid morning with or without the King and discuss what's happening with the realm, the crowns finances, overseas trade, etc. When a second opinion to decree's or something else needed to be done that wasn't scheduled; they're summoned and meet an hour or two later. (I do listen to some of my lessons)

Whatever this urgent matter is, it's serious enough to call some of the most prideful people in the Seven Kingdoms to one room without the usual pomp, and I want to know why.

A knocking noise broke my train of thought. I followed the rythmic tapping coming from one of my dressers with it's back to the wall.

That noise could only come from one person.

So I pushed it aside using all the strength my eight year old self could muster and it revealed a secret passageway like in the cheesey detective movies I used to watch on earth. It's a hole in the wall about a foot and a half off the ground, with a diameter of three feet (give or take).

Unfinished brickwork, half rotten pieces of wood, a musty smell that could only come from old wet rocks, and a little girl in a dusty dress, about my age with mousy brown hair and steel grey eyes sat in the opening.

"Hey Mouse" I say to the girl "You came just in time! I'd thought you'd never come back for more lessons."

She jumped out of the tunnel and shook the dust off her. "I'm your sworn girl, your grace, of course I'd come you haven't finished with the dance of dragons yet. And... if you won't be finishn' dos bread n' cheeses..."

"Eat while I change, and I'll tell you what happened to Princes Aemond and Daemon in Harrenhall after we're finished exploring for the day." I say to her giving her a look and nod giving my blessing to eat my untouched snack sitting in the table.

And with that, she lets out a squeal of glee before attacking the plate of defenseless food on the table by nibbling on it.

Mouse's real name's Rohanne Rivers, hailing from Harrentown she came here with her Mom and Grandad who's now a stable hand in the Red Keep.

Rohanne the Rat some call her, due to the fact she's always hiding, scurrying about, and most of all; has an unhealthy obsession with cheese. But I like to call her Mouse and she likes me calling her that.

We met like a year ago, she just popped up out of nowhere in the Southern Outer Yard in what I thought was a drain. Thinking she had an accident Me and Ser Erryk came to help her.

The look on her eyes when she thought she was caught red handed with a piece of cheese was so adorable that I forgot to ask how'd she get here and let her be.

Eventually I did manage to track Rohanne down and assured her I won't tell anybody so she won't loose a hand (or any other limb), and made her tell me what's up with the drain.

And what she said astounded me, Mouse actually found Maegors secret tunnels and knows them like the back of her hand; including a passageway in and out of the Holdfast that the books said never existed.

Being a bastard born from Lord Whent, a Ser Whent, or a Knight in service of the Whents (her mom was sure it's one of those three, maybe), no one batted an eye when she came and went (pun intended) And if this was the OTL, Aerys wouldn't have spoken to her much less ask about the tunnels.

But I noticed her as an important piece, (that sounded way too insensitive) we exchanged oaths that I made up, but sounded real enough in my rooms shrine; I, as her liege would protect her and give her cheese and she would be my junior master of whispers of sorts, feeding me all sorts of info around the keep.

"Thank you, your grace" she said through her bites.

"I told you to call me Aerys when we're alone, and in the Mothers name; don't eat with your mouth full!"

She nodded with her cheeks still stuffed with food.

Satisfied that my sworn girl wont choke to death, I dressed down to my linen small clothes and rummaged through my unused toy chest for the peasant garb Garin got for me. Then after wrapping up my head with some rags made from bed sheets, Aerys Targaryen became Arry the street urchin.

We then each grabbed lanterns and a few extra candles (still all provided again by Garin). Mouse looked apprehensive about us using lanterns. "I don't need these Aerys" she said gesturing to the lanterns.

"And why in seven hells not?"

She tried and failed illustrating to me what she meant using her hands and arms. "The way there's straight ye see, after that we'll jus be climbing up"

It was my turn to look apprehensive. "Well I need it, and that means we do need it."

She just shrugged and nodded. And with that we're off to spy on the grown-ups.

* * *

Apparently there is only one passageway in and out of Maegors Holdfast; through an incomplete tunnel headed towards the inner yard. So we pass hallways and cramped paths to get to another secret passageway, this time in the Western outer yard.

Then another trip to a receces of a drain that's not a drain (Mouse assures me it isn't) just under the small council tower.

We walked through the tunnel inside the drain that's not a drain for what felt like hours, and finally managed to reach the tower by going through smaller and smaller passageways until we were on all fours.

Eventually the damp dark tunnel opened to a ledge hidden by two tapestries overlapping; there was light and some voices just out of it. Mouse stuffed herself in the corner while she waited for me.

"The small councils be right pass them cloths" she pointed to the tapestry.

Parting the tapestries just a bit revealed that I'm directly overlooking a bunch of old dudes sitting around a long table.

I felt so dirty peeping and listening to a conversation I wasn't a part of (my earth upbringing taught me better) but since being reincarnated as one of the most influential characters in G.R.R Martin's work, it's my responsibility to make things better (my earth upbringing taught me well) even if it meant doing these kinds of things.

Grandy Egg sat in the head chair dressed in a maroon silk tunic while wearing his crown of a single band of gold and no other jewels. There wasn't a trace of a doting grandfather as he slumped in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Something really bad must've happened.

Dad sat in Grandys left wearing a classic royal garb; consisting of a black doublet embroidered with red dragons. He looked as worried as Grandad.

At right is a middle aged clean shaven man, who wore a red and blue doublet with silver inlays. He had bright auburn hair peppered with patches of in it grey.

A chain made of interlinking hands was around his neck. He held a piece of parchment in disbelief at what he's reading, there was an eerie silence as he stared the missive.

"Surely there must be some mistake, this can't possibly be true your grace!" The red haired man finally said.

That snapped out Grandy Egg from whatever funk he was in. "This is my son's hand, and I trust his word when it comes to matters such as this! You best remember that Lord Tully."

"I meant no disrespect to Prince Daeron, but his claims of -"

"And what of his claims Lord Edwyle?" Added a man with silvery blonde hair and looked as old or just a bit younger than Grandfather. He has well trimmed beard and wore a wierd purple robe/tunic hybrid. Strangely his accent remided me of Spain for some reason. "Is our princes account not to your liking?"

"Yes, Ser Dayne! An army of brigards that wreaked havok in the Reach led by three men not seen for four-and-thirty years, has now spread to Riverlands?" His voice filled with mockery and contempt to Ser Dayne. "I hope you would excuse me for having doubts."

I honestly thought there was going to be a fist fight, until Dad banged his fist to the table, shaking the goblets of wine.

"Lord Edwyle! Ser Mychel! This is no time to be bickering like children!" Said dad in his rarely heard 'Stop fooling around' voice. "My brother. Your prince. Is fighting a war of attrition, with an enemy content of bleeding him and his men dry. He seeks aid immediately of both men and materials, that's what it says." He turned to Edwyle. "It does not question your capabilities as a Lord Paramount, nor of your vassals."

A hard looking man shaped like a barrel sipped his wine and cleared his throat loudly as the arguing stopped. He wore a Green doublet decorated with Golden roses "I whole hartedly agree with Prince Jaehaerys! Having experienced this blight in my own lands, I can give the most-"

Then a guy in his early thirties made a face that's between amused and annoyed. He wore a black leather jerkin over a blood red shirt complementing his lean frame. There's a cokiness to the way he placed both feet in the table. "Would you stop the mummery Tyrell."

"And what are you implying by mumerrings Ser Blackwood?" Lord Tyrell said offended.

"I'm simply stating that while you're chasing nubile girls here, your son and that wife of his, aided his grace Ser Daeron with a troupe of capable knights and chased the Rat, the Hawk, and the Pig out of Reach."

Wait what? Why're those names oddly famillliar?

"I've been called upon this council by his grace good Ser, and tis only rumours, a master of whispers shouldn't concern himself with petty untruths."

"Petty yes, but your planting of flowers in Crownlander women is common knowledge enough, Lord Horas"

That was when my normally mild mannered and soft spoken grandfather lost it. "YA ALL ARE A BUNCH LOUSY FUCKIN' CUNT'S! ARGUIN' ABOUT NOTHING AS MY SON AN' HIS FRIENDS BLEED IN TRIDENT-"

"Your grace we meant no disrespect." Ser Blackwood apologized as he took both feet off the table, all of his smugness replaced fear.

"Was I done speakin' Robert?" Grandy Eggs voice now a bit calmer but he was still seething. "I may love you as kin, but don't think of that as free reign to spout insolence! I am King, am I not!?"

"Your Grace, the lords and I meant no offense" the guy in the far off corner said trying to calm him down. I hadn't notice the guy until now, the azure clothes inlaid with purple he wore didn't really pop like the others.

"Runceford! You-"

"Lord Redwyne did nothing wrong father! Neither did the other Lords here!" Dad interrupted before he pop a vein. "I worry as much you for Daeron, but raging like this to men giving you council? It helps no one!"

That struck a cord in Grandad Egg and became more composed, he sat back down all calm and dignified. "Forgive my outburst my lords, tis a... a trying time for me, and my whole family."

Everyone in the council nodded solemnly and shut up after that. That silence lasted for a good long time.

"As to the matter of my honorable fool of brother." My dad finally said. "Aid should be given immediately this I aggree with his grace."

Lord Tyrell puffed again like he was going to give a rousing speech. Earning a discreet eye roll from Ser Blackwood. "Nor was it ever contested your graces."

"I am of the same mind." Added Lord Tully.

"Same as well" Ser Mychel said.

"I agree" Meek lord Redwyne said.

Silently at the last seat until now, avoiding drawing royal ire, Pycelle finally spoke up "A wise plan your graces"

Ser Robert meanwhile grabbed something from under the table and displayed a map of the Riverlands to the other council members. "My agents have followed this army since they were a minor annoyance in the Reach -"

"A minor annoyance!?" Lord Horas interrupted.

Ser Blackwood ignored it and continued. "-Prince Daeron and the Reach Knights won a major victory near Tumbleton, smashing the part of their army controlled by the Rat, while the rest of them retreated north to the Trident."

"What is this army Ser Robert?" Grandfather asked.

He got a few cyvasse pieces, it's hard to make out, but the Heavy Horse and the Rabble was clear enough. "Well your grace, from what information I was able to gather; the enemy divided their forces to the name of the leaders. The Rats consisting of lightly armed raiders. Hawks and Pigs, on the other hand are Light Horse and Heavy Foot respectively."

"Surely Prince Daeron and the Reach Knights can handle the remaining rebels." Lord Tully interjected.

Ser Robert frowned and shook his head. "While Light Horse and Footmen may be at a disadvantage against fully armoured knights charging in open battle, but at least one of the leaders is most definitely a well read man, for they are using a famillliar tactic..."

"Containing the Flames and scorching the lands." Ser Mychel finished.

Blackwood smiles at the remark. "Aye, a tried and tested tactic against a stronger adversary."

"How many men does my son lead?"

Robert paused, clearly thinking of something to soften what he was about to say. "Your Grace, do understand that my information comes from a great distance and has taken great lengths to reach me with utmost secrecy-"

"How. Many. Ser Robert?"

The Master of Whispers nervously sighed and answered like ripping off a bandage. "During the Battle of Tumbleton, nearly nine hundred hundred knights followed his call."

"That's amazing!" I whispered exclaimed.

Ser Blackwood continued. "But most of em' were Knights and men at arms in service of lords affected or lords nearby about to affected. As soon as the rebels, what I now assume as their rearguard, was properly smashed, they bid their farewells and went back to their lords.

A missive from Highgarden claimed to have sent five-and-fifty skilled Knights with Prince Daeron. Considering aid from lords with men to spare, Hedge Knights and outriders looking for employment to the prince and the most recent information regarding of his princes forces, I can safely say a little more than a hundred follow him now."

"And of the brigards numbers?" Grandfather asked.

Ser Robert paused again before answering. "Eleven hundred at most."

Dad put both hands to his face "Gods."

But Grandy Egg looked more determined, he stood up with grace and power of a king demanding attention of his lords.

"Lord Tully" he said

"Aye your Grace"

"You will raise an army of five thousand Rivermen and hold any passes to your lands. Whilst I raise my own army to meet these... rebels, on the field."

"Consider it done, your Grace." Lord Tully replied.

Pycelle looked apprehensive. "Surely you wouldn't lead this army your Grace! Doing so is an aknowlegement of the threat they pose."

"Indeed, supporters of the Blackfyres are quick to turn their coats at a sign of instability." Ser Mychel added.

"Dunk can lead it then." Dad blurted out.

"Begging your pardon your grace, for the Lord Commander of Kingsguard at this forces helm would send a similar message."

"Not Lord Commander Duncan, Lord Redwyne. What I meant was Ser Duncan Targaryen should lead this host, father."

I back to the corner before my grandpa actually pops a vein. Thoughts swirled in my head about what the small council said in there, about the Rat, the Hawk and the Pig in particular.

What I know of those three came from my memories and old nan. (not that one, old nans are requirements for castles apparently) just a bunch of bandits terrorizing nobles.

Until this year, when an armed band of peasants grew to a large army of disgruntled small folk.

Crap.

Double Crap.

Now I know what I missed in the timeline; 251 AC, The year when Prince Daeron Targaryen dies putting a rebellion by The Rat, The Hawk and The Pig.

My plans are just that plans! No Legion of the Dragon, no pike and shot Tercios, hell all I've got now are stuttering coal boy and girl with a liking to cheese.

I'm basically kept inside the red keep until my fourteenth nameday, so starting an industrial revolution not happening for a while.

What can a twenty year old in an eight year old body do?

Something I hope.


	4. Appendix 1 Kingsguard and Small Council

**Kingsguard** **of Aegon Fifth of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.**

Lord Commander Duncan "The Tall"

Ser Jeffory Norcross "The Neveryeild"

Ser Mychel Mertyns "The White Owl"

Ser Clarence Crabb "The Short"

Ser Gerold Hightower

Ser Harlan Grandison

Ser Erryk Wendwater

The last three knights are the youngest and just recently joined the order, so they don't have monikers (yet)

* * *

 **Small Council of Aegon Fifth of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.**

Hand of the King Lord Edwyle Tully

Master of Laws Ser Mychel Dayne "The Sword of the Morning"

Master of Coin Lord Horas Tyrell

Master of Ships Runceford Redwyne

Master of Whispers Ser Robert Blackwood

Edwyle Tully nearly joined Lord Lyonel Baratheon in rebellion after his daughter was spurred by Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen and subsequently tried to end her life, fortunately this was averted with his appointment as The Hand of the King and payment of his daughters dowry.

Lords Horas Tyrell and Runceford Redwyne weren't as incensed as Lords Baratheon and Tully, but seeing his chance for more influence Lord Tyrell with the aid of Lord Redwyne pushed for their appointments.

Ser Mychel Dayne is a cousin to King Aegon, him being the son of Dyanna Dyanes youngest brother. The first Dayne of High Hermitage to claim Dawn. In the OTL he's the matrilineal Great Grandfather to Gerold Darkstar.

Ser Robert Blackwood is the youngest of the small council at thirty-one and a nephew to the King. Third born son of Lord Blackwood.

 **Authors Note: Here's a list of some important people so I or anyone else can't get lost (I'm planning to add lots more). And is anyone interested in being this story's beta reader? I PM other people but no one replied yet.**

 **Update: Sorry for the typo.**


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